Achilles' Heel
by FrenchCirce
Summary: Everyone had a weakness. Oneshot. Written for the Ghost Hunt Prompt Challenge: Mythology and Folklore, on AO3.


Written for the _Ghost Hunt Prompt Challenge: Mythology and Folklore_ , on AO3 with the prompt 'Achilles' heel' (yeah my titles are sooo creative, I know)

An enormous thanks to Snavej for being the second pair of eyes!

* * *

"I think this belongs to you."

Martin tore himself away from the essay he was grading to look up at his son questioningly.

An expressionless Noll stood in front of his desk, handing a heavy leather bound book to him.

Martin took the voluminous edition, which he recognized to be a tome of _A History of Greek Mythology_. He frowned slightly, having no recollection as to why it had been missing from his library.

"It does," he confirmed, reaching for the bookmark which laid within. "I didn't realise it was misplaced. Where did you find it?"

Noll's voice held no trace of emotion when he answered.

"It was in Gene's room."

Martin's hand froze, the book suddenly heavy in his grasp. Neither he nor Luella had gathered the courage to go through their deceased son's belongings, unable to desecrate the sanctuary his room had become. But Noll was impervious to such qualms. Life should be going on.

"I- I see." he forced a smile. "Thank you for giving it back."

Noll nodded, and Martin looked back at the leather cover with a mixture of fascination and dread. Then with something akin to reverence he opened the book at the marked page. It made him feel oddly connected to his deceased son, to read the same prose, to see the same printed paintings. He could picture the scene vividly, Gene at his desk, or maybe lying on his bed as he liked to do, browsing the book while eating a snack. There even was a smudge on the right upper corner of the page which looked suspiciously like melted chocolate.

Martin had to close his eyes a moment to dispel the dizziness that seized him. This fingerprint stain made Gene presence so _real_ , so _vivid_ , that he forgot for a second his son wasn't there anymore. It was sometimes hard to reconcile with the harsh reality of his death.

He took a slow breath and focused on the pictures printed on the double page instead. Achilles and Patroclus under the centaur Chiron's tutelage. Patroclus wearing Achilles's armor in the Trojan war. Achilles dragging Hector's dead body with his chariot.

"I wonder why he was reading that," he whispered.

There was something callously ironic with the choice of this chapter. Achilles and Patroclus, the two proverbial friends and their tragic fate. Apatride or rejected by their family, possessing great power as well as a great weakness.

Their story was close to that of his own children. Martin could have been Chiron himself, raising gifted, but tragic pupils.

Gene had begged Noll to come with him to Japan, like Patroclus who begged Achilles to take the arms and fight at his side. Like Noll, the great hero refused and let his companion lead the offensive by himself, only recommending not to come too close to Troy. Patroclus didn't listen, like Gene hadn't wanted to shorten his stay.

If only Noll had accepted to accompany his brother, if only they had convinced him not to go, if only…

Martin sighed inwardly. This way of reasoning was pointless. Like in Greek tragedies, there was no escaping your fate.

"I pointed the book to him," Oliver said quietly. "Gene had an essay to write for his history class. He tried to push it on me, but I gave him this as a reference instead."

Martin chuckled softly.

"Yes, it sounds like him to ask you to do his homework."

"He really was a stupid medium."

In Oliver's tone there was no sorrow, but an underlying longing which betrayed how sorely he missed his brother. And Martin was torn between the nostalgic feeling of hearing the endearing nickname again, and the piercing ache to see it used in past tense.

He sent his younger son a sympathetic look. Despite his lack of apparent reaction Noll was probably the one who was the most affected by the loss of his twin. Only time could dull their grief. Maybe in a few years they would find Gene's absence bearable.

Maybe.

Oliver fidgeted imperceptibly under his father's gaze, and Martin realised the boy was unnaturally stiff. But what caught his attention was the mixture of determination and apprehension in his eyes.

Martin put the book on his desk carefully before removing his glasses with a resigned sigh.

Oliver hadn't come to his office only to give the book back. There was something else bothering him, and Martin was afraid he already knew what his last remaining child was about to say.

"What is it, son?" he asked. " You have something to tell me, don't you."

Noll let his surprise at the man's perspicacity show for a fleeting second before his stoic mask was put back in place. Martin almost laughed.

"I am your father, after all these years did you really thought I wouldn't notice?"

Noll allowed a tiny smirk to grace his lips.

"No. I knew _you_ would."

Martin couldn't help the surge of pride at what the statement was implying. It had taken him a long time to connect with the most reserved of the twins. Gene had been outspoken and craving for affection, and had blended in their family easily. Noll, on the contrary, had always been less approachable, and had often shied away from their tentatives to reach out to him. Martin hadn't given up though. With Gene's reassurance that his brother didn't hate them he had waited for Oliver to come to him, letting him open up at his own pace. The progress had followed minuscule steps with infuriating slowness, but all the effort and patience hadn't been in vain. The bond they shared now was one of mutual acceptance and understanding.

"I want to return to Tokyo."

Here they were. The dreaded words. Martin tried to ignore the fear seizing his heart.

"May I ask why?" he asked with a calm he was far from feeling.

"I could lead some interesting research there."

Martin shook his head, catching on the double meaning of 'research'. His son's answer was so sly he couldn't call it a lie. But he wasn't blind to his motives either.

He glanced at the picture printed in the book before him.

Achilles avenging Patroclus's death, dragging Hector's body with his chariot.

Pride wasn't Noll's Achilles' heel. No, his sense of responsibility was. Which is why he had roamed Japan for more than a year, in search of the body of his twin. Thanks to his perseverance they had been able to bury Gene and put an end to the turmoil they were in.

Except that the Hector responsible for Gene's death hadn't been punished. And his Achilles wanted his head.

Even if it lead to his downfall.

Martin didn't want to be robbed of another child. He didn't want to experience the unbearable pain ever again. But he also knew he couldn't hold Oliver back.

Could you ever escape your destiny?

"I will speak to your mother," was all he managed to say.

"Thank you."

Martin nodded wordlessly, watching the boy leave.

"Son," he called just before Noll passed the door. His voice broke. "Take good care, please."

Oliver's gaze softened ever so slightly. "I will," he promised.

Martin kept staring at the doorway long after his son was gone, feeling suddenly old, tired and _empty_.

Every person had a weakness. He had just discovered his children were his own Achilles' heel.

* * *

 _Um. At first I wanted to write some Mairu but decided to challenge myself a bit more as a writer, and came up with this. Not exactly the fluff I usually provide. I hope you liked it nonetheless_


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